


Mini-Fics

by Jove_Belle



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:40:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5057797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jove_Belle/pseuds/Jove_Belle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1 - Amelia is kinda a mess...<br/>Chapter 2 - She used to be sexy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Mess

Amelia is kinda a mess. Sure, she can slice a monster tumor out of a brain, and she has an incredible rack—it’s not like Callie looks, but she’d have to be dead to not notice. But she’s perpetually on the verge of falling apart. Or running away. Figuratively, not literally. And when you’re dealing with an addict with spotty Narcotics Anonymous attendance, running away involves a lot more drama than a newly divorced, single mom should ever invite into her life.

For all the mess, though, there’s an undeniable attraction. Callie finds herself circling Amelia, orbiting close enough to touch occasionally while staying far enough away to feel somewhat safe. She knows it’s false safety, but she’s willing to let herself be fooled. Denial wouldn’t be so easy if it wasn’t for that soft whimpering pleading sound she makes when Callie touches her there.

And when she rolls over, still naked from the night before, and says with a sleepy smile “Morning,” all Callie can do is cover her body with her own and give her a reason to moan Callie’s name in that way that makes Callie so wet she feels like she might drown in her own desire.  
Amelia’s voice is deeper first thing in the morning. Sexier. Or maybe it’s the same and it only sounds different to Callie’s ears because she still can’t believe that this perfectly imperfect mess of a woman is naked in her bed and wearing a satisfied, I-came-so-hard-last-night smile on her face.  
Days are harder. Amelia becomes “Dr. Shepard,” the neuro goddess who can do the impossible. She’s stopped trying to be her brother and is slowly starting to wear her reputation like a prideful badge rather than the shameful secret that makes NA a necessity.

Not that Dr. Shepard isn’t sexy as hell. God. When she has that fresh-from-surgery glow that makes her look super human, it takes all of Callie’s will not to slam her against the nearest semi-stable surface and fuck her hard and fast until she comes with Callie’s name on her lips. She’s done that once or twice, and after, Amelia looks deliciously undone. But she also looks righteously pissed because she can’t think with her underwear destroyed along with her composure. Neuro goddesses have to be able to think.  
Mostly, though, during the day, Amelia is off limits. She’s not hiding their relationship. Nothing as simple as that. She simply refuses to acknowledge that they’re in one. Every single time they collide in an impossible-to-resist tangle of sweat and murmured words of affection, Amelia acts surprised, as if she hasn’t considered the possibility of how good they might be together. 

 

And every single time, Callie works just that much harder to make sure the experience is etched into Amelia’s memory. She wants their…whatever this is that they’re doing together to be indelibly woven into the fabric of Amelia’s existence. She wants the impression she leaves to be so sharp, so visceral, that Amelia has no choice but to admit they share something…not special, but something.

Amelia is kinda a mess. A mess that’s slowly expanding, threatening to gobble up Callie’s entire being. A mess that Callie embraces even though she knows the smart play would be to run.


	2. She used to be sexy

She remembers being sexy. BC. Before Callie.

She was sassy and sexy and fun, the doctor who skated around the hospital and saved children. She was a goddamned superhero.

Now, here she sits, nursing a drink that is way more vodka than cranberry and trying to call up that confidence she used to move through the world with. No less than five women have cruised her, three have chatted her up, and she just can't quite figure out how to pull. Apparently, divorce means dividing assets, battling over custody, and surrendering her sex life along with her wedding ring.

All she wants, no, all she _needs_ is to get naked and sweaty. It doesn't have to be life changing. She'll settle for clumsy fumbling, missed kisses that are more teeth than lips, and ripped clothes. So long as the night ends with her fingers inside another woman, she'll call it a victory. Orgasms all around would be nice, of course, but not necessary. Because, if she doesn't end this drought soon, she may go completely and utterly crazy.

"Hi." A brunette who spent the last ten minutes checking her out across the room slides into the open spot next to her at the bar. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Her drink isn't anywhere close to gone, but she doesn't want to give this woman a reason to walk away, either. She raises her glass and swirls it so that the ice clinks against the glass. "How about I buy you one instead?"

She signals the bartender without waiting for an answer and congratulates herself on sounding almost charming.

"That would be lovely." The woman offers her hand. "I'm Lucy."

"Arizona."

She holds the handshake for a couple of beats longer than strictly polite, but it feels really nice, the skin on skin contact, and she wants to prolong it for just a moment.

The bartender rescues her before it becomes truly awkward. "What can I get you?"

Lucy sets her bottle on the bar, a dark, long necked beer. "Another one of these."

While the bartender gets the beer, Arizona tries to remember how to be flirtatious and sexy. She comes up blank, but Lucy doesn't have the same hesitation. She leans in close enough that her breath caresses Arizona's skin, hot and inviting along the nape of her neck. "Thanks for the drink."

It's forward enough to make Arizona think they could just skip the drink and go straight back to Lucy's place. The beer arrives and Arizona hands over payment without looking away from Lucy. She swallows nervously. All she needs to do is hold it together just a little while longer. When she opens her mouth to speak, nothing comes out. Lucy chuckles, all deep and throaty and sexy.

"You want to get out of here?" Lucy asks.

"God, yes." Her answer comes out in a rush, full of relief and excitement and confirms that any game she used to have is gone.

Still, she follows Lucy out the door and realizes that she doesn't need to say anything at all to get where she needs to be.

AC. After Callie.


End file.
